True Love Way
by dishcalledhaggis
Summary: Kings of Leon songs-inspired story.  Logan is the badboy all the girls want, Jean is not convinced love is for her.
1. Chapter 1

Romantic entanglements at Xavier's were like a comet, hot and liable to create a large crater in the Earth when it reached its end.

Betsy was in love with love, Storm thought it was a nice idea with the right person, and Jean thought it wasn't worth it. Not that she was cold or had been badly burned in the past. She suffered plenty of crushes and a few short courtships, but relationships were something she didn't find herself in for very long, if at all. She had long decided that if her life consisted of the team and her close family of friends, it wasn't an empty life in the slightest.

"Look who it is," Storm grinned, looking at something she found very easy on the eyes.

"Is it Kurt sunbathing again," Jean teased.

"Nope. Better."

"He's not going European on us again," Betsy scrambled to the window.

Kurt in Speedos caused a major window licking session.

"It is better," Betsy followed the subject intent on her own lascivious ideas.

"End my suffering, who is it?"

Betsy and Storm had identical expressions of michevous glee. "Logan's back."

Xavier's renegade, Canadian James Dean, badboy Mutant, the titles were varied and all accurate. The man's name was more than an instant reputation, it was practically legend. On the last visit to Xavier's, Charles quickly found him a new assignment to head out on, being that most of the female staff was in a constant state of twitterpation. It was the fact that he flirted with every woman, and didn't pick any of them that was a problem. Mature, independent, kick ass women became piteous, lovesick teenagers in his wake. Even Jean had flirted with him a time or two, but she did not find the fervor of him catching.

It was funny to see sensible women go berserk over him, though.

"We can count on things being much more exciting for the next few weeks," Jean had found her way over to the window, the trio of women turning away laughing when he looked right up at them.


	2. Chapter 2

Jean yawned as she padded down the stairs, the large windows of the mansion letting in the gray tint of early morning. She pushed through the swinging kitchen door, just tying the knot on her sweatpants when she looked up at the sound of voices.

"Morning Jean," Betsy smiled, her hair perfectly in place and...makeup at this hour?

Her eyes slid over to Logan, who leaned against the kitchen counter, smirking over his coffee mug at what must look like a disheveled mess in comparison to the walking Victoria's Secret sleepwear catalog model at the table. Jean tugged at the hem of her tank top, resisting the urge to fuss with her hair.

"Jean."

"Morning guys," she muttered, hoping that she didn't have morning breath as she stepped up next to Logan, who seemed to be guarding the coffee pot.

Luckily, Bobby arrived, sweaty from an early morning run so Jean and Betsy could exchange silent expressions that even they didn't need their telepathy to drive home the point. Except, Betsy could not help herself.

_So...nice hairdo._

_Thank you, ever so much for the tip off that I look like Gracie Hart,_ Jean swiped at the sleep in her eyes.

_You just look...well slept?_

_Nothing like you, I've never seen that nightie before,_ Jean doctored her coffee just how she liked it.

_You like, _Betsy stretched and smoothed her hair back, shamelessly posing.

_You look like a tart,_ Jean used the reflection of the microwave above the stove to check her reflection.

_Just what I was going for!_

Jean rolled her eyes, turning to see that Logan and Bobby were looking at her.

"Yes?"

"Logan here was just wondering why you buy your pajamas in the men's section," Bobby replied, Logan smirking that already infuriating way she conveniently forgot about until that very moment.

"Not everyone can be Peignoir Barbie first thing in the morning," Jean explained, knowing somehow she walked into a Bobby-trap.

"Ovbiously," Bobby made a disparaging look, only fueled by Jean's embarrassment that she was not presentable.

"Nobody got up this early until Logan came back, wonder why that is," Jean walked from the room, making a face at Betsy.

"Now I know why," Bobby followed too closely behind Jean, and got a telekinetic slap, courtesy of the swinging door.

Jean sighed as she climbed the stairs, there was no way to win.


	3. Chapter 3

"What are we talking about," Jean asked, checking over the seat-belts on the jet.

"Where we would go if you could take the Blackbird right now," Betsy lounged in her seat like this was a place to hangout.

"What's the consensus," Jean made a few notes on her clipboard.

"Storm wants to go to Barbados, Scott wants to go to Toronto of all places, and I want to go to France. I was just asking Logan here where he wanted to go."

"Where would you want to go, Jean," Logan smoothly avoided giving an answer by deflecting it onto Jean, of all people.

Jean rifled through the first aid kit with a little less care than she usually would; she unzipped her suit so she could breathe, it seemed quite hot in the Blackbird. She wondered how Logan could look so otherwise unaffected in a leather suit, and then wondered why she was wondering that.

"Brazil."

"Really, not Ireland?"

"Today, it would be Brazil. Warm sun, cold drinks, small bikinis," Jean smiled, walking down the stairs with clipboard in hand.

"Brazil sounds good," Logan told Betsy.

* * *

Jean finished talking with Scott about repairs needing to be made, and turned to see Logan leaning up against the doorway to the hangar.

"Maybe he wants to help you to your room, too," Scott joked.

"Been taking comedic lessons from Bobby again," she muttered, checking her list again.

"So you gonna make him wait or what?"

"Who says he waitin' for me?"

"I say so, because I didn't need saving when I didn't get ganged up on in the park like-" Scott helpfully reminded her.

"I didn't need saving...I'll be back in a minute," Jean sighed.

"Don't worry about it, we need to eat and shower before we deal with the jet."

Jean headed over to Logan, trying not to let his intent gaze scatter her brains.

"Hey," she smiled, hoping to pass him without having to talk.

"How's the ribs?"

"Tender, but nothing I haven't experienced before," she groaned inwardly as he stepped onto the elevator with her.

"Good thing I was around to help you," he replied with a smirk.

"Yeah, thanks for that. Doesn't happen often."

"You needing help?"

"Not having them all flat on their backs, even being outnumbered."

Jean hated thinking she needed to be saved, this wasn't some fairytale where she was the damsel in distress and he wasn't the knight in shiny leather!

"Well that's what teammates are for, right?"

Jean laughed. "You have never been a team player, if I recall correctly."

"I can make exceptions," he grinned.

"Oh please," she laughed, reaching for her doorknob. "Well..."

"Well what."

"You passed your room," she ducked inside her bedroom, and prodded her ribs gently with her fingertips. "Ow".


	4. Chapter 4

Jean walked into the gym, ready to run off the stresses of the day, when she came in on an impromptu class led by Logan.

"Hey Jean," Kitty smiled, as she stretched out on the floor.

"Hey, what's going on," Jean smiled.

"Logan got some of us together for a conditioning class."

"Sounds good, I'm sure he'll work you hard."

"Joinin' the class, Jean," Logan walked over with a smirk on his face.

"No, I was just going to run on the treadmill for awhile," Jean held her music player up as if it explained her being there.

"Couldn't hurt."

"Yeah Jean, we never get to work out with you," Kitty ever-so-helpfully encouraged Logan.

"So join the class," Logan took her music player from her hand, walking back across the mat.

"Kitty," she hissed.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Jean started stretching out.

Logan gathered them together, starting them with running laps around the gym. It wasn't long before everyone was sweaty with exertion, but paying close attention to make sure he wouldn't correct them.

"Engage your stomach muscles," Logan instructed, tapping Jean square in the stomach, making her expel her breath.

She gathered her annoyance and corrected herself. Kitty kept pace with Jean, wanting to be a good example to Logan.

"I'm in hell, it is middle school and I am in gym class," Jean muttered, Kitty smiling at her until Logan gave her stomach a tap as well.

Jean gave her a look of apology, a look of determination crossing Kitty's face. Logan stopped them, immediately going into a series of blocks and kicks to test balance and coordination. Kitty got tangled up in the sequence, Logan coming over to help her.

"Try not to think it through, let it become muscle memory," Logan instructed, watching as she went through it with the rest of the class.

"Good. Jean?"

"Yeah," she answered, not daring to get sloppy as he was standing right there.

"How's the ribs?"

"Fine, why?"

"Might need you to help me out with some combat moves," he smirked. "Watch your core."

"Fine," she answered.

"Is he picking on you," Kitty asked.

"Yep, I think he is," Jean muttered.

Logan counted out pairs in the room, motioning for Jean to join him in the front.

"Now, Jean and I are going to go through some movements that are easy to get stuck in during hand to hand, and how to get out of them."

"How is she going to go up against you without powers," Josh asked with a grin.

"Great vote of confidence there, Josh," Kitty rolled her eyes.

"Even Jean can kick my ass without powers, you just have to know how to even the playing field. Now," Logan grabbed her wrists, Jean swung her arms up and out, easily breaking the hold. Logan then went through the steps, making the hold more difficult to escape with each new stance. After a few clarifications on how to maneuver within the holds, Logan returned to making them run around the gym once more, then began push ups. The kids were starting to lose steam, but Jean's years of fighting made push ups something she enjoyed. As the students dropped, Jean and Logan continued on their steady pace.

"Not bad, Jean."

"You're not so bad yourself, Logan," she rolled her eyes.

"Don't have to keep up with me, you know."

"This is not my first time through conditioning," Jean replied.

They continued on, into the hundreds, and Jean felt her arms starting to tire. She casually got up, walking over to get her music player and a bottle of water.

"Why did you stop," Kitty asked.

"Even I can't match him push up for push up, he's self-regenerating," Jean laughed.

"Could you help me get stronger," Kitty asked. "I'd ask Logan, but..." she saw him stand up, a crowd of young men surrounding him.

"Sure," Jean smiled. "Then you'll be able to take Josh anytime."

"Jean, hang back a minute," Logan called as the students milled out of the gym.

"Uh oh, teacher's keeping you back," Kitty grimaced.

"I can take it, go grab a shower and a snack. I'll see you later."

Jean walked over to where Logan stood, handing him her half empty bottle.

"Thanks, we should stretch out."

Jean nodded, sitting down on the ground. She folded over her legs, hands gripping the toes of her shoes.

"You were good with the kids," Jean commented.

"I saw them struggling through a Danger Room session, thought they could use some guidance."

"It's a shame you won't always be here, they would be formidable if you kept this up."

"It could be something to stick around for," he replied.

Jean sat up, pulling her feet together in a butterfly stretch. "We've always tried to keep them fit and trained, but it seems there aren't enough of us to go-" Jean stopped, watching Logan go through what was obviously yoga poses.

"You were sayin'?"

"Yoga, really," she grinned.

"Spend some time in India, you won't get away with not doing it for very long."

"Throw that at some of the kids next time," Jean suggested.

"I'll let you do that, you've got good form," Logan grinned as she followed him through the familiar poses.

"Says the guy who smacks me and tells me to engage my muscles," she laughed.

"Had to do it, kids learn by example."

"So I was doing it right."

"Of course, you had the best stride of all of them."

Jean faulted the downward facing dog pose for her flushed cheeks. "Put all of the teachers in the gym and then see who has good form."

"I can do that," his gruff voice gave way to a rough laugh.

"Not today," Jean exclaimed, accepting his hand up.


	5. Chapter 5

Jean walked the rows as she spoke to her classroom of bright shining faces, most on the verge of coma, thanks to her dreaded time slot just before lunchtime. On each desk she dropped a foil-covered treat, casually bribing them to keep with her just twenty minutes more. As sugar was introduced into their bloodstream, they began to perk up, responding to her questions with some semblance of understanding. Casually leaning on the edge of the desk, she nearly lost her footing as Logan walked into the room. Recovering quickly, she ignored a snort from the back of the room. He walked to the back of the room and sat next to the source of the amused snort.

Jean cleared her throat; he was sitting in on her class? Who would ever do that by their own free will?

"As I was saying…the molecular structure of DNA…" she picked up a dry erase marker and began to draw, hoping that her deodorant wouldn't fail her only hours into the day.

Torturous minutes later, the clock dismissed the class for lunch. Jean looked up to see Logan walking toward her, and tried to resist the urge to look away.

"Learn anything useful," she asked.

"If you put it in Mythbusters terms," he smirked.

"You should have come in yesterday, we worked physics by watching that show," she smiled.

"You have a free hour after lunch,"' he stated, Jean's heart did a can-can in her ribcage. He knew her schedule?

"Yes I do."

"So let's go get some lunch off campus."

"Sure, just let me run up to my room-"she frantically considered changing, then showering. _Why did she decide to wear flats and comfy pants today? Ugh._

"No need, you won't be buying," he held the classroom door open for her to follow.

Pocketing her lip gloss, she walked out into the hall with him. Jean quietly wished they wouldn't bump into Betsy or Ororo, in all their exotic glory, in stilettos and short skirts.

Logan pulled his pickup keys from his front jeans pocket, and opened the door for her.

"Thanks," she smiled.

Logan drove to a local deli, glancing over with a smirk as she watched him work the clutch and shift smoothly.

"Don't know how to drive stick?"

"No."

"I could teach you sometime."

"That would be…interesting, to say the least," she smiled.

They walked to one of the outdoor tables, and ordered from a college-age boy who seemed to find Jean attractive-or just put off by Logan's tough exterior.

"Have you always taught Mutant kids?"

"Yes, though I suppose it was the only thing I wanted to do, since I was brought up the same way. I could try doing regular high school, but then I suppose I could get in trouble for my 'views'," she smiled.

"One of those all-evolution types," Logan smirked.

"When it comes to doing DNA, blood typing, that sort of thing, I like to get into the differences of Human and Mutant…mostly for the kids' benefit. I grew up in that first wave of 'keep this quiet, you aren't normal' mentality. Now that kids are getting that kind of prejudice, I feel like it's in their best interest to hear that every individual is normal, Mutant or not. But they seem to embrace their Mutations, because it makes them individual, so to have me teach it is a bit redundant."

"I've only heard good things from the kids about you."

"They don't think I'm rifling through their heads to make sure they are listening," she chuckled.

"Last thing on their minds when I asked," he replied.

"You asked them about me," she asked aloud, her mouth bypassing her inner monologue.

Lunch was brought to the table, so there was that blessed time of silence that Jean could give herself a talking-to.

"How is the conditioning class?"

"Kitty is coming along; she's almost ready to take on Josh."

"Hopefully she doesn't phase through him when she gets close enough to touch him."

"He could use a good ass kicking from a little thing like her. I could use your help in there again."

"No one else survived the boot-camp you gave us last weekend?"

"Well, Betsy did express an interest-"

Cue a strange stabbing sensation in her eyeball that she forcefully ignored.

"-but I prefer to spar with someone taller," he finished with a smirk.

"Sure, just let me know when."

"There's some advanced stuff I should show you, outside of class."

"Oh?" Jean tried not to let her gutter-mind take that somewhere else_. Real mature, Grey_

"So we can break it down properly."

"No problem."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Sure," she smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Betsy weaved through the crowd of people in the bar, holding three shots over her head. Jean and Storm grabbed up the shots, toasted and threw them back. Every once in awhile a small group of teachers were able to steal away for a few short hours to blow off steam that couldn't be alleviated with simple workouts. Some time away from being an educator and modern day warrior made it easier to go home and fight the good fight another day.

As Jean flipped the glass on its rim, she looked up to see Logan walk through the door. With a forceful shake that most would think was the shot going to her head, she forced the lascivious thoughts of the women in the bar, concentrating on lyrics to a song the girls played repeatedly on their iPods while studying.

"Jean…Jean?"

"Huh?" She looked up to see Logan, and her two best girlfriends staring at her.

"You okay," Storm touched her arm, concern in her deep brown eyes.

She could have crawled under their table in embarrassment, catching a glimpse of her scowling face in the mind's eye of her silver-haired friend.

"Sure," she lifted her lips in a smile, that she was sure looked as forced as it felt. "Just gonna get some air."

Jean was grateful that her high heeled boots didn't catch on anything on her way outside. The shock of cool, fresh air to her lungs helped ease the pang of holding up her mental walls. A long sigh escaped her lips, leaning up against the wall of the bar.

"Got something on your mind?"

"When don't I," she chuckled, turning to look at Logan, who appeared as always, silent as the night around them.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine," she replied, looking away as a blush crept over her cheek. "I'll head back inside after awhile."

Logan's boots scuffed the ground, she watched as a flash of his metal lighter and the bitter tang of cigar smoke filled the space between them.

"Don't mind, do ya?"

"No. Surprised you're going to keep them waiting on you," she smiled.

"Them?"

"Half of the women, and all Harp on tap."

"How do you remember what I drink," he smirked.

"I'm observant," she shrugged, glad her face was in shadow.

"Bit crowded for my taste tonight," Logan smirked.

"I know what you mean."

"Jean? Thought you might need your jacket," Storm appeared like the moon from behind the clouds, luminescent and otherworldly.

"Thanks."

Storm smiled and walked back inside.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"What would your fan club think," she teased.

"C'mon," he stubbed out the cigar, and walked to his bike.

Jean zipped up her jacket, heart thrumming in her ribcage as the bike roared to life. She didn't hesitate securing her hair with a ponytail band on her wrist before climbing onto the bike behind him, since she wasn't about to ask if he had a helmet on hand.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she nearly shrieked when the bike took off like the Blackbird, holding on tighter. The air was much cooler as the bike tore up the road, wind roaring in her ears. It seemed they rode on for only minutes when Logan veered off on the exit of Baxter Preserve and killed the engine.

"You like it?"

"It's great," she grinned like an idiot.

Logan walked off into the dark, Jean following behind him.

"Ever rode on a bike?"

"Just a Ducati. Never as a passenger," Jean smiled, sticking her hands in the jacket pockets.

They came out on a meadow, bathed an eerie silver-green by the full moon.

"Wow," Jean walked down to the water.

Logan threw a rock out onto the water, skipping it far too many times for a regular human to manage.

"Wanna go out sometime?"

"Yes," Jean responded quickly.

Down the trail, trees thrashed suddenly. Logan unleashed his claws, turning to meet the threat.

Jean walked up behind Logan, grabbing his wrist.

"Wait…it's only Human kids."

"You sure?"

"Are you serious," Jean hissed.

Logan sheathed his claws, Jean walked past him and into the dark.

"Jean."

Jean stood there with a map and flashlight in her hands, not that it was needed except for purposes of pointing them in the direction of their lost car.

"Hey…thanks!"

"No problem," Jean turned around and into Logan's chest.

"I'm not used to being around a telepath."

Jean snorted, stepping around him as she walked back to the bike.

"Asking a freakin' telepath if she's sure-" she muttered to herself, losing her footing as she stepped up on a rock, forgetting her shoes were not for hiking.

"Ow!" Jean immediately sat down, clutching her ankle.

"Jean, you shoulda let me lead," Logan was there, quiet as always.

"Well you shouldn't insult telepaths by questioning their reliabili-ow!"

"Not broken."

"Gee Logan, are you sure about that?"

"I apologized, Jean."

"Yeah, well help me up and take me home."

Logan picked her up. "This will be faster."

"Fine."

He carried her back to the bike, and returned to the mansion. Jean had planned to hobble back to her room, but as soon as Logan could manage it, he picked her back up and carried her inside.

"Logan, you don't have to do this," she was a bit concerned they'd run into a student who would then recount how Logan swept her off to her room in the middle of the night after being at the bar.

"You need to have it looked at."

"Hank is in the lab," Jean mumbled.

"Okay."

Jean hit the button for the elevator, and tried not to let the heat of embarrassment reach her cheeks as they walked into the lab.

"Hank, got somethin' for ya."

"Stars and garters, what happened?"

"I wasn't wearing the proper hiking footwear," Jean smiled.

"It doesn't seem to be broken, but thought you should check it out," Logan gruffed.

"Indeed, we'll take an x-ray to be sure."

Logan leaned up against the wall while Hank puttered around. Hank took the x-ray, and informed them he would be back in a minute.

"Thanks Doc," Logan sat on the bed next to her.

"You don't have to stay, I'm sure Hank can manage."

"I caused this, I'm stayin'."

Hank walked in, ever the optimist. "We don't have to amputate today."

"Well that's funny, I came in for a strep test, Doc," Jean smiled.

"Just a sprain, Jean. Ice it, take it easy until it doesn't bother you anymore."

"Do I get a sucker?"

"You only get suckers when you get a shot," Logan reminded her.

"He ruins all my fun," Jean rolled her eyes.

"Last task of the night, Logan make sure she doesn't run up the stairs."

"Got it, Doc."

Jean sighed in exasperation as she was picked up a third time. "Seriously, what is it with you and throwin' me around?"

"You like it, admit it."

"Goodnight, Hank."

Logan carried her upstairs to her room, setting her on the bed.

"Thanks, you didn't have to-"

"I insulted you, least I could do."

"Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you, Logan."

"I've had worse," he shrugged.

"Guess that means I don't get to spar for a few days," Jean sat back on her bed.

"I'll just run the kids ragged until then."

"You won't replace me?"

"Don't want to. Gonna be ok gettin' yourself to bed?"

"I can undress myself, Logan," she smirked.

"See you tomorrow," he pulled out a sucker from his pocket.

"Candy thief!"

"What's the difference between and x-ray and a shot anyway-" his words were cut off as Jean grabbed the front of his t-shirt and kissed him.


	7. Chapter 7

Jean was giddy. That free-falling feeling in her gut when she woke up after a couple hours of sleep made her feel like she was constantly being pumped full of B12. She slipped out of beds in the morning 30 minutes before her alarm, her morning runs were longer, and her usual frustrations suddenly didn't seem so bothersome.

"Good morning," Jean walked into her classroom, seeing Betsy sitting on her desk.

"When were you going to tell me you had a date with Logan?"

"Oh, I don't know. We haven't really planned a time or day or anything…How did you find out?"

"Because I tried asking him out this morning."

"Oh Bets, you didn't."

"Jean, if you love me…you'll cancel so I can go out with him," Betsy slipped off the desk and approached with wide obsidian eyes.

"Betsy, I…"

"This is the only thing I ever wanted, please!"

Jean had a list of things Betsy 'only ever wanted, ever ever'…but swallowed her comments and sighed. "Ok."

"Thank you," Betsy squealed, kissing her cheek before leaving Jean all alone.

Jean made it through the day, torn between kicking herself and kicking Betsy over this. Why couldn't she, Jean Grey, tell Betsy to go find her own man? Great, now she was considering Logan 'her man'. This is why she didn't date anymore! As soon as she even looked at a guy, some other woman jumped in front of her and took him for her own. Now she'd have to go to Logan and…

"Jean."

She winced. Lunchtime had come so soon?

"Hey, Logan."

"I was thinkin'."

Jean got up from her desk, and started drawing the shades. Either she was getting a headache, or it seemed she was destined for a self imposed lock-down in her room as soon as classes were done.

"…you listenin' to me?"

"Yeah, I heard you."

"So, nine?"

"Logan, I can't."

"So…Saturday?"

"I can't date you."

"Why the hell not," his eyebrow quirked as he folded his arms over his large chest.

"I just can't. I'm sorry if I made you think I was interested…why not go out with Betsy? She's fun."

"Jean."

"I've got to go, Hank needs me in the lab," Jean slid past him before he could grab her wrist.

Betsy was lying in wait around the corner, and Jean rushed past with tears in her eyes. Logan left Jean's classroom, dragging his fingers through his hair as he muttered. Storm walked up to Logan, her smile fading as she exchanged words with the gruff Mutant. They walked away in quiet conversation, and Betsy felt like she had just stepped on a landmine of her own doing.


	8. Chapter 8

Friday. Dreaded Friday.

The Friday she was supposed to go out with Logan.

The date that Betsy was now getting ready for in her bedroom.

Usually, Jean would be sitting on Bety's bed, picking through the vast makeup arsenal while Betsy studied a different shoe on each foot like a Cosmo flamingo. But here Jean sat, grading papers in her comfy shorts and jonesing for the ice cream hidden in the back of the freezer. Cherry Garcia, all hers as soon as Betsy would make up her mind and just…go.

She heard Betsy's door close, because there was a distinct self-centeredness in the way she slammed the door. Jean realized she was sitting up in bed, listening. The front door closed.

"Finally, I can widen my ass in peace," she muttered to herself, grabbing her laundry basket as she left her own room.

With only three steps left, she looked up from her concentration on making sure she didn't skip a step and give herself that horrible jolt as one's heel slips on the forgotten stair, and looked right into Logan's eyes. She could never really 'read' him like she could others, but his frustration at seeing Jean as he waited for Betsy to find her jacket in the closet was plain as him telling her out loud. Frustration, as he took in her charcoal t-shirt and red cheerleader shorts that made her butt look good. (The ones she stole from Kitty.)

Feeling her cheeks growing hot, her mouth open. Logan cleared his throat a breath before Betsy emerged from the closet. Jean leaned against the laundry room wall, wishing she could have had the spine to tell Logan that…that she…

"Ready?"

Logan opened the door for Betsy, and Jean looked around the corner to see Logan waiting to catch a glimpse of Jean again.


	9. Chapter 9

Days had passed since the silent exchange in the foyer of the mansion, and Jean was chalking it up to complete randomness. Jean had just set her earrings down on her bedside table, and unzipped her skirt when Kitty phased through the door.

"Kitty!"

"Get your gym clothes on!"

"Why the rush," Jean grabbed the shorts Kitty threw over her shoulder.

"Because Logan says you have had plenty of time to rest that ankle, and he needs you!"

Jean Pulled Kitty from the dresser drawer and grabbed a sports bra and tank top.

"He could have asked me himself," Jean changed clothes in the bathroom. "Why did you give me the short shorts, Kitty?"

"No time, c'mon," Kitty phased through the door with Jean's shoes and socks in hand.

"Girl has got to stop drinking coffee," Jean thought aloud, following her down to the gym.

Jean opened the door to the gym, Kitty bouncing up with her shoes.

"Sorry, didn't realize I had them!"

"Sure you didn't," Jean smirked, sitting on the bench.

Logan ran through warmup and drills, Jean realizing that in just a few short weeks the students had improved immensely under Logan's tutelage.

"Ankle is ok," he asked her.

"Yes," was all she could manage to reply.

"Good, we'll run through the same as last time."

"Sure."

It took all of Jean's concentration to keep her mind on the matter at hand, and not on where his hands were as they demonstrated all number of ways they could be subdued in hand to hand combat. Jean was glad to feel at ease around him again, she had tried to think of a way to find that comfortable mood when she had so foolishly pushed him away.

He asked her to stay behind a moment after cooldown, so here they were, cleaning up after the kids had left the gym.

"Looks like that's everything," Jean commented.

"That's not why I wanted you to stay."

"Oh, okay. What's up," Jean hoped her casual tone didn't seem forced.

"What's up is you lettin' Betsy have whatever she wants."

"I don't know what I was thinking," she shook her head.

"Here's what I think…don't do it again," Logan stepped closer to her.

"I know."

"If I had wanted to take Betsy, I would have asked her," Logan looked in her eyes.

She nodded.

Logan brushed a strand of hair off her sweaty cheek. Jean felt the warmth of his fingers and stepped close.

"Friday, then."

"Friday?"

"Not good for you? Wednesday then," his hands slipped around her waist.

"That's tomorrow," her hands rested against his biceps.

"Now," he leaned in.

"No." Jean pulled her head back with a smile as he growled. "Tomorrow is fine."

Logan kissed her smiling lips, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed back.

"What was with those red shorts?"

"I wear those when I'm just hanging out in my room," Jean chuckled as they bumped into the wall.

"So, what are you doing later?"

"We have a date tomorrow," she reminded him.

"So, we hang out tonight. Go out tomorrow," his fingers slipped under the hem of her tank top.

"We'd have to leave the gym at some point," she pulled his hands away.

"Forget it then, we'll stay here."

"Logan…we can't."

"Sure we ca-" he looked toward the door. "Oh."

"Work off some of that frustration," she kissed his cheek and slipped away just as Hank and Ororo came into the gym.


	10. Chapter 10

Jean should _not_ be nervous.

Dates were easy! Dress to impress, flirt, chat about fun things, end of night. She had been there, done that, got that awkward kiss at the end of the night.

But this was Logan, and her insides felt like she had consumed a pot of medicum roast coffee laced with Red Bull.

Try as she might, her hair was just not styling right. She had attempted sexy curls, but usually she had Betsy to help her with that.

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door.

"Shit! Don't be him, don't be him yet...oh please," Jean cracked the door open and sighed in relief at Betsy's presence.

"First, I would like to apologize...what is wrong with your hair?"

"I will accept apologies in forms of cash, charge, or helping me with this," she grabbed her best friend by the arm and dragged her into the bedroom.

"Sit!"

Jean did as instructed, and in ten minutes time, her hair was a glossy curtain of waves.

"Thank you, so much."

"Wearin' the LBD?"

"Do you think it's too much?"

"Never. Just wear the nude pumps."

"Not the flats? I'll tower over him."

"He's man enough to like a tall woman in heels," Betsy zipped up the back of the dress, and let Jean use her shoulder to step into the heels.

Betsy grabbed the sparkly clutch in Jean's closet, and filled it with the small pile of essentials Jean had laid out on her bathroom counter.

"Finally took your necessities down to only three glosses, I see."

"You have no idea how hard it was," Jean groaned, she was known to be a bit of a lip product freak. "I still have a drawer full of unused stuff, go nuts."

"Hooray, payment for services rendered," Betsy ran into the bathroom as Logan knocked on the door.

"Have fun," Jean smiled.

"You too," Betsy was inspecting colors against her skin.

Jean walked to the door, and opened it to see Logan in a gray button-up shirt, rolled to the elbows as always. Jeans that showed off his muscular thighs, and nicely shined boots.

"Hi."

"Ready to go," he asked.

Jean practically giggled when he opened the door to the garage, and the passenger side door for her. He had always been corteous of the women on the team, but the clenching of his free hand clued her into some possible anxieties he was feeling as well. She settled herself into the seat of his black chevy, a team vehicle Xavier insisted he upgrade to upon taking a position at the Mansion.

"Still haven't figured out all the bells and whistles," he muttered, pulling out onto the road.

"Miss your old truck?"

"Mostly when guys yack my ear off about it," he smirked.

"I understand that. I get droolers on my Mustang."

"The mustang is _yours_?"

Jean laughed, nodding.

"Well hell, this is gonna be a good time."


End file.
